


chasing tails

by nezstorm



Series: chasing tails [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe, Fluff, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M, Minor Character Death, Pre-Slash, Werefox Stiles, Young Peter Hale, Young Stiles, kid stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 19:04:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13910259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nezstorm/pseuds/nezstorm
Summary: Peter was sixteen when he found Stiles.





	chasing tails

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [[授权翻译]咬尾巴/chasing tails](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14695220) by [azarsin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/azarsin/pseuds/azarsin)



> As many of you might have noticed, I’ve began posting Teen Wolf fics again a while back. I have reposted a few of my old works back on ao3 and as of yesterday, I have also posted the werefox!Stiles series back on ao3.   
> My feelings towards it all are very conflicted for reasons some of you might be aware of. This post is meant to explain a few things and allow me to express my feelings on the matter.  
> Last year, around April, I have already been feeling weighed down by, well, fandom. Being a part of something big has both up and downsides, and I got pretty involved in things, if I can say so. I write how I write, mostly leaning towards very short stories. English isn’t my first language and frankly, I don't edit most of my short works unless I’m concerned about pronouns. That has resulted in quite a few complaints.   
> Things have been building up, hurts growing, and then, shortly after Steter Creators Appreciation Week, a few people decided to be very mean about something as silly as a typo in a short story. It kind of sealed the deal for me, all the hurt and anger I felt that day, and I first announced that I’m done writing and later deleted all my Teen Wolf fics. I didn't participate in any of the events anymore, didn't organize any, stopped writing.  
> I couldn't and can't however let this fandom go, not 100%. I have grown here, found friends here, had a place for a while, felt a part of something bigger. I have been hurt, yes, but I was happy for a while, too. I still love these ships and the people who create things for them.   
> And, I had nowhere else to go.   
> So I couldn't make a clean break.  
> Like I said at the start, I’m slowly worming my way back in here, but I don't think I’ll ever be as involved as I used to or that all my old works will return. I actually doubt they will.   
> I have been hurt and I still hurt. I have so many conflicting feelings about the matter, too. I’m scared I’ll get burned again, that I’m not welcome because I tried to leave once.   
> I can’t give my word that I’ll stay. I can't promise anything.   
> I feel really fragile and I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop every time I post something or comment on things. That won't be going away for a while.   
> I don't know if this clears anything up for you guys, I certainly feel short on words on how to express myself properly with this. So ask if you want to.

Peter was sixteen when he found Stiles.

He was out in the Preserve one morning, running on barely frequented paths as he got excess energy out before school. He was about to turn around and go back home for a shower, when he heard yowling. It was a pitiful sound, like the cry of a small child, but it was the scent of blood that had Peter stopping to investigate.

He found a kit, a tiny little fox half buried under a woman’s body. Peter crouched down to examine the scene, unmindful of the small animal for now, even as it cowers and tries to huddle even closer to the body. Peter could smell the wolfsbane in the wound on the woman’s back that confirms what he was already suspecting, based on the kit’s behavior: Peter had just stumbled upon an orphaned werefox.

And they had hunters on the loose.

They were probably not far behind too, and while Peter couldn’t do much about the woman, not right now, he could at least get the child to safety.

It wasn’t easy to pull the kit away, the fox clearly unwilling to leave its mother, but Peter was patient. And strong. And eventually managed to pick the child up.

Peter cradled the kit close to his chest and run.

\--

Somehow, between searching for the hunters that encroached on their territory and looking for any information about the kit or his family, Peter had become the designated caretaker. Or nanny.

Not that the others didn't try to take the little werefox off him. But the fox had his claws deep in Peter's shirt and would yowl pitifully if anyone tried to pull him away from Peter. Deaton couldn't even check him for injuries properly, but the only blood Peter could smell on him was his mother's so they decided to leave him be for the moment.

As it was, over the next few days there wasn’t a moment where the kit wasn’t with Peter: be it curled in his lap as Peter sat on the couch and watched TV or read a book, on the small of Peter’s back when the werewolf worked on his homework, and snuggled up against Peter’s side as they slept.

No once did he shift back to his human form and they were all starting to worry that he was trapped. Though it might have been that he was too young to do so yet. And there was no way to be sure. Deaton didn’t know much about werefoxes and there was little to no knowledge on them in the books in the Hale library. They were very secretive creatures.

Peter supposed the little boy simply took comfort in being a fox, in the way being an animal made things easier to process. As long as the kit ate and slept and didn’t get sick, he didn’t think they should worry about him staying shifted.

Peter wasn’t really one to care much for people outside his family, but he felt a strange sort of protectiveness over the kit that followed him all day like a lost little duckling. Especially during the night, when he woke up to small, sad whimpers and a shivering fox pushing his head under Peter’s armpit or chin.

\--

Problems began when Peter had to go back to school after a long weekend of caring for the fox.

He tried to slip out of bed without waking him up, but to no avail. Even substituting himself with a pillow didn’t work, his scent alone seemingly not enough to keep the fox asleep. It seemed cruel to lock the kit in Peter’s room, but it was the only way to keep him from following Peter, and Talia would open the door for him the moment Peter was in the car.

No one enjoyed the pitiful yowling that started the moment Peter closed the door. 

Though Talia and little Laura did seem to enjoy the brief moment when the kit refused to approach Peter after the wolf got back from school, obviously upset by being left alone in the big house. The cold shoulder didn’t last very long though and within minutes Peter’s sister and niece were cooing as they watched Peter getting nuzzled within an inch of his life.

Peter didn’t actually enjoy his chin getting covered with slobber, but he endured the enthusiastic greeting. He did hope the boy would adapt to being left with other people soon though, if only for the fox’s own good.

\--

A few days turned into a week, a week turned into a two, and soon enough it was two months since the little fox came to live with the Hales. The kit did eventually allow people other than Peter to touch him and got along with them surprisingly well. He was an energetic little thing once he opened up, but he still preferred Peter above anybody else.

He also kept to his fox skin and it wasn’t until one Saturday morning that that changed.

They were all in the kitchen, some of them still bleary eyed, but all of them hungry and awaiting the special blueberry pancakes Mark, Talia’s husband, had decided to make that day.

Peter was half-asleep, sitting with his elbow propped on the table and resting his head in the palm of his hand, and absentmindedly scratching the kit between his ears while the boy sat in his lap. Peter wasn’t a morning person, but blueberry pancakes were his favorite and Mark didn’t make them very often.

He was so sleepy that he didn’t notice fur changing into short hair until an unfamiliar, small voice asked,

“Can I have a pancake too?”

The whole room stilled and went on alert, the pancake Mark was in the process of flipping almost lost if not for Mark’s enhanced reflexes.

The brown haired boy didn’t seem fazed by everyone staring at him at all. He did slump back in Peter’s lap though and squirmed a bit before looking up at Peter.

“I think I need some pants,” he whispered to Peter, though he didn’t seem that concerned with his nudity, “You’re not supposed to sit at the table with no pants.”

Well, no one could really argue with that.

**Author's Note:**

> i'll try not to regret this.


End file.
